


How To Expand Your Mind

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Series: 1960s [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: In 1966, college student Dana Scully makes a new acquaintance--Fox Mulder--in the process of tracking down her sister among New York's hippie scene.





	How To Expand Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

It was coming on three months since her parents had started obsessing over whether New York City was A Safe Place For A Young Woman or A Den Of Danger Which We Need To Drag You Home From, and Dana was getting tired of it.  To begin with, it wasn’t fair.  _She_ had done absolutely nothing wrong.  She was doing well in her classes, and she wasn’t about to drop out.  She was still a virgin, and she didn’t plan on that changing any time soon, and even if she’d had someone she wanted to sleep with she’d still have to figure out how they could do it in compliance with the three out of four feet on the floor rule.  She’d never touched a joint, and nobody offered her any anyway, even if she’d wanted to try.  She was doing just what she was supposed to be doing, in other words: focusing on getting her education.

Besides, she didn’t want to go home.  She liked it here: liked walking around the city and going to museums, liked her cozy dorm room in Brooks, liked the freshman physics lab and the other girls in it and the fact that no one there questioned that she wanted to be a doctor.  She liked the sense of freedom, but she wasn’t going to abuse it, and it wouldn’t be fair if her parents decided to make her come home just because of what Melissa had done.  Melissa was Melissa; Dana was Dana.  New York City had nothing to do with it.

She did understand why her parents were upset.  There hadn’t been a lot of warning: Melissa had just decided, at the beginning of the spring semester, that she wasn’t coming back to school.  And when their parents had reasoned, begged, threatened, she’d put her foot down that she wasn’t coming home, either—she’d said that she was staying in New York and she was twenty-one and they couldn’t stop her from fighting for her beliefs or living how she wanted.  Their mother, Dana thought, was most worried about whether Melissa was all right, in some grimy apartment downtown with a couple of her friends: if she was eating well, if she smoked, why she didn’t call them.  What hit their father hardest, she knew, was the things Melissa said about Vietnam. 

She understood how they felt.  She really did.  She tried not to sound annoyed when they fussed over her.  But it was hard sometimes—like right now, sitting in the hallway of her dorm and talking to her mother on the phone, having the same conversation they’d had again and again since January.

“We’re just worried about you both,” her mother said.  “That’s all.”

“I’m fine though, Mom,” Dana said.  “I promise you I’m fine.  All I’m doing is studying.”

Her mother was quiet.  “I believe you, sweetheart,” she said after a moment.  “It’s just that…we thought Melissa was fine too.”

“I really mean it, though,” Dana said.  “I just want to do well in school.  Like we’ve always said.”

“I know.  I know,” her mother said.  Another pause.  “You wouldn’t…make bad decisions just because of what other girls were doing, would you?  I mean if…if someone offered you drugs or…”

This question again.  Her mother seemed to think that she wasn’t living at a small women’s college, but in an opium den.  She knew that she had to tread carefully, though.  She wanted to point out that she wasn’t going to be offered drugs, that it seemed to be the furthest thing from everyone’s mind to offer her drugs, while still reassuring her mother that she wouldn’t try them even if someone did offer.  She wanted to suggest that perhaps Melissa’s decision hadn’t been solely, or even largely, motivated by people offering her drugs, while still agreeing with her mother that yes, drugs were a problem.

In the end, she settled for, “Of course I wouldn’t, Mom.  And it’s not like that here, anyway.  I don’t have friends who would do that.”

It turned out to be the wrong thing to say.  “I’m sure your friends are very nice girls, Dana,” her mother said, “but we just worry about you being so far away, with people we don’t know.”

“I’m at school,” Dana said, keeping her voice as even as she could.  “There are people looking out for us.”

“But Melissa…”  Her mother paused again and sighed.  “Have you seen her recently?”

She didn’t know what answer her mother wanted to that.  Did she want her to say yes, so that she could be reassured that at least someone in the family had seen Melissa?  Did she want her to say no, so that she could be reassured that Dana wasn’t being negatively influenced by her sister?  Dana decided on the truth.  “No.”

“We haven’t heard from her either,” her mother said.  “And I got worried, so I called…she usually answers our calls at least…but I’ve been trying and trying and I haven’t been able to get her.  I don’t know what she’s doing, Dana, or who she’s with…I’m just so worried.”

“I…I’m sure she’s all right, Mom,” Dana said.  “She’s probably just out a lot.  You know Melissa.”

“I’m worried about you both,” her mother said, and here they were again.

“Don’t worry about me,” Dana said.  “You know what I’m doing.  I call you every week.”  So that they could have the same conversation over and over, so that she never got a chance to talk about anything actually interesting that she was doing, so that she always felt like she was skating on thin ice, trying to make living away from her parents seem safe and benign.

“I know,” her mother said.  “I just think…we’d feel safer if you were closer…”  Her voice was trembling.

What was Dana supposed to do?  Was it not enough now that she was doing well in school and staying out of trouble—to be a good daughter, did she have to agree to transfer somewhere closer to home?  She didn’t want to do that.  She wasn’t going to do that.

“I’m safe here,” she said.  “Now I really have to go, Mom.  Someone else wants the phone.”  That wasn’t a lie; Marita, another girl from her hall, had been standing there for the past few minutes, tapping her foot.  “I love you, Mom.  And I promise I’ll be okay.  I’m studying hard just like you and Dad want me to.”

“I love you too,” her mother said.  “We’re proud of you, Dana.  We just can’t help worrying, after everything.  But you know we’re thinking in your best interest.”

“I know,” Dana said, and maybe they were, too.  That made this hard.  “Give Dad and Charlie my love too, all right?  I’ll talk to you again soon.”  They said their goodbyes, and she hung up the phone and went back to her room.

She thought again about how unfair it all was.  It had absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do with Melissa.  Well, she wouldn’t let her parents make her come home.  She would do something to make them stop worrying.  She would…she would…

She would call Melissa herself, she decided, and tell her that she had better call their parents and let them know that she was at least alive and well. 

Dana went back out into the hall, where Marita was still on the phone, having an involved conversation.  She took a seat against the wall.

Marita covered the mouthpiece and shot her a look.  “You were _just_ on the phone.”

“I have to call someone else,” Dana said.  “I can wait.”

Wait she did, entertaining herself with trying to figure out who Marita was talking about (her horse, it turned out), but eventually she got back on the phone.  She dialed Melissa’s number.

It rang and rang.

Dana tried several more times that week, whenever she saw the phone free, but she never got any answer.  She was beginning to wonder why Melissa and her friends even bothered to have a phone if they never answered it, and she was also getting more than a little frustrated.  She knew that she would be talking to her mother again soon, and she didn’t feel like having the same conversation yet another time, with a further week of worry added to her mother’s supply.

There was something else she could try.  She’d only been to Melissa’s apartment once—very briefly, when Melissa had first moved in—but she still had the address, and Melissa had told her she was welcome any time.  If Melissa wasn’t going to answer the phone, she would have to go there in person and tell her sister in no uncertain terms that she needed to learn how keep in touch.

Dana rode the subway downtown on Saturday morning, found Melissa’s building, and pressed the bell for her apartment.  She pressed it again.  Again.  Nothing.

She could just go back to her room and give up now, she thought.  She’d certainly tried.  But she didn’t want to do that—she was getting more and more irritated with her sister, and, yes, a little worried too.  She needed to find her.  If she were Melissa, where would she be?

She didn’t really know.  But she thought about Washington Square Park, not very far from Melissa’s apartment.  The one other time she’d been here, they’d walked through and seen a lot of hippies, and maybe Melissa…

She walked the blocks to Washington Square Park and walked through slowly, studying the people she passed, trying to spot her sister among them.  She’d been right about one thing: there were a lot of hippies here.  None of them were Melissa, though.

There were a lot of hippies in Central Park too, she knew, and she went there the next day, after church.  She didn’t make any progress there either.  It was much too big a space to cover in an afternoon.  And among the groups she did pass, she didn’t see her sister.

Dana made it through another phone conversation (this one with both her parents, which was even more difficult) and through another week of classes.  The next Saturday, she went back to Melissa’s building, tried the bell again, and then waited on the steps until she got tired.  She walked through the park again on her way back.  Still nothing.

By now, she wasn’t bothering to try to deny that she was worried.  Maybe something bad had happened to Melissa.  People didn’t just disappear into thin air; if Melissa was all right, why wasn’t she answering her phone or her door?  Why couldn’t Dana find her anywhere?

Of course, she could be perfectly fine, Dana told herself as she loaded paper into her typewriter so she could write her paper for English class.  Maybe the problem was just that Dana didn’t know where to look.  She was hardly an expert on hippie hang-outs.  She started typing, misspelled two words in as many sentences, and ripped the paper out of the typewriter in frustration.

Her roommate looked up from her own desk.  “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

Dana sighed.  “I…it’s just…”  She studied her roommate more carefully.  Monica—well, Dana wouldn’t exactly say that she was a hippie.  But she definitely was closer to being one than Dana was.  People offered _her_ joints, Dana was pretty sure.  She sometimes went to marches.  She wore a bra to class, but not all the rest of the time.  Maybe she would know…  “This might sound a little strange,” she said, “but you know my sister?”

Monica nodded.  “Yeah,” she said.  “What’s going on with her?”

“That’s the thing,” Dana said.  “I don’t know.  I’ve been trying to get in touch with her, and I’ve been looking for her, but I think I might not be looking in the right places.  So I was wondering if…maybe…do you know anywhere I should be looking?”

Over almost seven months of living with her, Dana had observed that Monica wasn’t fazed by much, and this was no exception.  She nodded.  “Yeah,” she said.  “I don’t know your sister that well, of course, but there’s probably some places in the park we could check.  You want to go tomorrow?”

“That would be great,” Dana said.  “In the afternoon?”

“Sure,” Monica said.

“Great,” Dana repeated.  “Thank you so much, Monica.  This is really nice of you.”

“It’s no big deal,” Monica said.  “Besides, I haven’t even done anything yet.  You can thank me once we have results.”  She grinned and turned back to her work then, and Dana did the same.

They set out for Central Park the next afternoon to check out the places that Monica knew.  They weren’t having much luck—there were plenty of hippies, sure, but again no Melissa—but Monica insisted that they keep looking.  “I have a really good feeling about this next place,” she said.  “I bet we’re going to find her.”  She started down a path, and Dana followed along.

They didn’t see her at first—they might even have passed by.  But then Dana heard a laugh coming from a group sitting in the shade of a big tree, and she whipped around.

“That’s her,” she said to Monica.  “She’s over there.”

“Hey, great!” Monica said.  “I knew it.  I had such a good feeling.  Do you want to go talk to her?”

“It’s what I came for,” Dana said.  She led the way this time, as they made their way towards the tree.

It was Melissa, all right.  She was lying on the grass amongst a group of people, some girls and some guys.  Dana didn’t recognize most of them, except for a blonde girl who was one of Melissa’s roommates.  She called herself Starchild, “because she was a child of the stars,” although Dana happened to know for a fact that her name was Susanne and that she was the child of an accountant from Cleveland.  They were talking animatedly and didn’t look up as she and Monica approached, as she stopped and stood there.  But when she said, “Melissa?”, her sister looked up.

“Dana?” she said.  “Oh my God, what are you doing here? Hi!”  She jumped up and gave Dana a hug.  Or she tried to, at least.  What Dana Scully discovered at that moment was that she was very much not in the mood to hug her sister.

“What am I doing here?” she said.  “What am I doing here?  What I’m doing here, Melissa, is looking for you, because we are all worried sick about you!  Why don’t you ever call?”  She sounded like her mother, she thought, and somehow that made her even more worked up.  “You look like you’re having a great time, not worrying about anything, but you could at least call someone once in a while!  You could call me if you don’t want to call Mom and Dad!  How am I supposed to know you’re…you’re not dead or…”

“Whoa,” Melissa said.  “Why would I be dead?  What are you talking about?  Dana, you need to chill out—”

“No, I don’t!” Dana snapped.  “I don’t need to chill out!  You’re the one who needs to—to stop being so selfish!”

“Selfish?” Melissa said.  “Dana, I thought you were cool with this, at least.  I know everyone else thinks I’ve thrown my life away, but I thought you got it.  And now you’re calling me selfish?”

“Because you are selfish!” Dana said.  “You don’t care how anyone else is feeling.  But then you wouldn’t know, of course, since you never call.  You have no idea what Mom and Dad have been saying to me.  They’re trying to make me come home, Melissa—”

“Oh, and they didn’t try to do that to me?”  Melissa’s voice was starting to get a little heated.  “Like I haven’t been through any shit?  You were there, Dana, you heard!  All that crap about how I’m wasting all my opportunities and this is no way for a nice girl to live and if I dare to say anything against the war I obviously hate my brother and my father and I should be ashamed!  So I can’t imagine that whatever they’re saying to you—”

“Well, you know what, Melissa?  At least it was because of something you did.  At least Mom and Dad didn’t start hassling you until you decided to drop out of school.” 

Her voice had gotten heated too.   She could tell that she was almost shouting, but she couldn’t stop herself.  “Dude,” one of the guys on the grass said, nudging the guy next to him and goggling at her and Melissa, and that did nothing to improve her mood.

 “They’re hassling me for no reason, just because of what you did, and it’s not fair that I should have to go home because of you, and it gets even worse when you don’t call them, and that’s what’s selfish!  Obviously your whole peace and love thing doesn’t extend to any of us!”

 “Well, how about you stop being so self-righteous?” Melissa demanded.  “Yeah, I did decide to drop out of school, and that’s my choice, not Mom’s or Dad’s or yours.  Not like you’d ever be able to make a choice like that, because God forbid you ever disappoint them for a second—”

“Well, excuse me if I’d rather go to school than do whatever it is you do!  Excuse me if I’d rather not terrify everyone who cares about me!  Because that’s what you’re doing, Melissa.  Even if you don’t want to call yourself, you could at least answer your phone.  You could at least answer your door.  Not that I think you’d care, but I’ve spent almost two weeks looking for you now.  I’ve called and I’ve gone to your apartment and there’s just been nothing, and yes, you could have been dead, and I was…I was scared,” she finished, her voice trailing off.  She hadn’t been looking for Melissa to get into a fight with her.  Even if she thought that she was mostly right, she hadn’t meant to yell.  It had just happened.  She’d been scared.

Melissa was mad now, though, and her voice was still loud as she said, “Why do you all assume that I do everything with the purpose of upsetting you?  It doesn’t have anything to do with you!  There’s something wrong with the phone.  And that buzzer’s never worked.  So unless you want to take this up with my landlord—”

Melissa didn’t get it then—how she’d felt.  “That’s not an excuse,” she said.  “You should have told me.  You could have called me from a payphone and told me.  Of course I’d get worried if I couldn’t find you; it doesn’t matter why.”

“Well, you worry about everything,” Melissa said, which was not true, and Dana was about to lodge a protest when one of the guys on the grass spoke.

“Hey,” he said to Melissa.  “Your sister’s right.”

Dana hadn’t expected that, and from the look on her face, Melissa hadn’t either.  “What?” she asked.

“Your sister’s right,” he repeated, sitting up.  “Of course she’s going to worry if she can’t find you and doesn’t know what’s happened to you.  Now, I don’t know what goes on with you and your parents, but yeah, she’s right.  You could have called her, at least.  She’s your sister.” 

“Thank you,” Dana said.  She studied him.  He didn’t look different from most of the people Melissa ran around with—brown hair to his shoulders, long legs in blue jeans, pretty cute if she was being honest—but at least he seemed to get where she was coming from.

He caught her looking and smiled at her.  “It’s the truth.”

Melissa was quiet now, and Dana started to hope that maybe they could patch this up.  “Yeah,” she said.  “Of course I’d worry about you, Melissa.  Because you’re my sister and I care about you.  You’re right, it’s your choice what you want to do, and I’m sorry I yelled, but you just…you have to call me, okay?  So I know you’re all right.  That’s all.”

Her sister looked at her for a long moment before letting out a breath.  “Okay,” she said.  “I’m sorry that I scared you.”  She reached out to give Dana a hug again, and this time Dana hugged her back.  And then they were laughing together, and it had already become like all the other times they fought: intense while it lasted, over quickly.

“So are you okay?” Dana asked when they pulled apart.  “Everything’s going well?”

Melissa nodded.  “It’s really good, Dana,” she said.  “Like I said, I know Mom and Dad are still upset, but Dana, it’s…this is so right for me.  This is how I’m meant to be living.”

“Then I’m glad for you,” Dana said.  It made things hard with their parents; it was nothing that she would have chosen herself.  But Melissa’s smile was so big.  “Are you still waitressing at the same place?”

“Yeah,” Melissa said.  “That’s good too.  I meet a lot of interesting people.”  She brushed a strand of hair back from Dana’s face.  “How about you?  Is school still good?”

Dana nodded.  “Yeah,” she said.  “I’m taking physics this semester.”

“Genius,” Melissa said, making a face at her. 

“And the food is still the food…you’re not missing much there…and my friends are good.  You remember Monica, right?” she said, gesturing towards her roommate.

“Of course,” Melissa said.  “Hi, Monica.  How are you?”

“I’m great, thanks!” Monica said.  “I love your necklace, by the way.”

Melissa touched the necklace, a long, complicated string of different colored beads.  So much for the days when the two of them had matched.  “Thank you.”  She turned back to Dana then, pulling her into another hug.  “I really have missed you,” she said.  “You’re right, I should have called.”

Dana rested her head against her sister’s shoulder.  “It’s okay,” she said.  “Let’s see each other again soon, though.”

Melissa nodded.  “Hey, I’m having a party on Friday night.  Don’t know if I could tempt you, though.”

“I…maybe,” Dana said.  She wanted to see Melissa again, but she doubted it would be her kind of party.

Melissa laughed.  “I figured.  You can think about it.  Just show up if you feel like it, okay?  Might do you good.  You’re welcome too, Monica,” she said, and Monica smiled.

Dana nodded.  “We should probably get back now,” she said.  “Can I tell Mom and Dad you’re doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Melissa said.  “Yeah, please.  And, hey, I’m sorry I flipped out at you, okay?”

Dana grinned.  “I flipped out too,” she said.  “So we’re even.  You’ll call me?” she said one last time, and Melissa nodded.

She looked back towards the group as she and Monica walked away; Melissa waved when she saw her looking.  The guy who’d taken her side waved too and called out, “See you around!”

She smiled and waved back.

She called her parents once she was back at school, to let them know that she’d seen Melissa and that she was okay.  Of course her mother had a million questions, most of which Dana was unable to answer.  No, they hadn’t talked about what Melissa was eating, but she’d looked fine, she hadn’t looked too thin.  No, she didn’t know anything about drugs (and she probably wouldn’t have said anything if she had—it would only worry them).  No, Melissa hadn’t mentioned any future plans, but she was very happy with what she was doing now.

“Are you going to see her again soon?” her mother asked.

“Yes,” Dana said.  “We talked about it.”

“Well, when you see her,” her mother said, “will you check on those things and let me know?”

“You want me to check on what she’s eating?” Dana asked.

“Yes,” her mother said.  “It would make me feel better.  And tell her to get her phone fixed.”

“Okay, I’ll tell her,” Dana said.  “I’m sure they’re working on it.”

They talked for a little while longer before she had to get off the phone, and for the first time in a while, whether or not it would be better for her to transfer somewhere closer to home wasn’t the primary subject of the conversation.  That was something, Dana thought.  That was something.

Clearly, she thought later, when she was back in her room, her parents worried less about both of them when she saw Melissa.  This was a little odd, on some level; after all, how did they know that Melissa wasn’t convincing her to follow in her footsteps?  Did they think she was going to be the one to convince Melissa?  That seemed less than likely, but you never knew.   Whatever the case was, they liked having some reliable information, she guessed, knowing that, at the very least, Melissa was doing well, even if she was doing well in a life they wouldn’t ever have chosen for her.  The more she could see Melissa, the more she could tell them, the better.

Maybe she would go to that party on Friday.

As the week wore on, it still seemed like a good idea, and she and Monica got ready together on Friday evening. As she finished putting on a green dress that she liked, Monica looked over at her.  “Um…you’re wearing that?” she asked.

“I thought so,” Dana said.  “Why, do you not think it looks good?”

“No, you look beautiful,” Monica said.  “But you do look really square.  And we’ve both seen Melissa’s friends…you have to know your audience, right?  Do you want to borrow something of mine?”

“I think it would be big on me,” Dana said; Monica was almost half a foot taller than her.

“That’s a look,” Monica said, smiling.  “Loose and flowing.”  She started taking things out of her wardrobe.

Dana tried on a few, but what looked good on Monica made her look like a little girl playing dress-up.  She felt ridiculous, and she said so, and eventually she put her own dress back on.  “Well, it does look wonderful on you, anyway,” Monica said.  “I’m sorry I said anything…if I made you feel…”

“It’s fine,” Dana said.  “Don’t worry about it.”  Melissa already knew she was a square, and so did any of her friends who had seen her the other day in the park; it wasn’t like it was a big secret.  “Let’s go.  We don’t want to be late.”  They headed out together.

There were already a lot of people at the apartment when they got there, but they found Melissa in the kitchen.  “Hey!” she said.  “I’m so glad you both decided to come.”

“I’m glad we came too,” Dana said.  “I talked to Mom and Dad the other day.  Mom wants to know what you’re eating.”

“Right at the moment?” Melissa asked.  “One of Starchild’s brownies.”  She took a bite.  “I probably wouldn’t tell Mom that, though.”

“Why wouldn’t—oh,” Dana said, realizing what her sister meant when she grinned at her.  “Yeah, I won’t tell her that.  I mean, she keeps asking me about drugs but I don’t think she really wants to know, you know?”

“She definitely doesn’t,” Melissa said.  “It’ll just freak her out.  But tell her I’m eating fine.  She doesn’t have to worry about that.”

“I will,” Dana said.  “And she said to tell you to get your phone fixed.”

“We’re trying,” Melissa said.  “Look, are you just going to deliver messages from Mom all night?  Come on, you’re here to have fun, right?”  She led them out into the living room, where most of the people were gathered. 

When she took a seat on the couch, she noticed him: the guy who’d come to her defense the other day in the park.  He was sitting on the floor with some other guys, sharing a joint, and he looked up when she sat down.  “Oh, hey!” he said.  “Good to see you again.”  He held out the joint.  “You want a hit?”

“Oh,” Dana said.  This was a first.  “No, no thanks, I don’t really…I’m all right.  But thanks.”  She hoped she didn’t sound idiotic.  He was smiling at her, but not in a mean way, so she guessed she didn’t.

“I’ll take a drag,” Monica said from beside her, reaching out, and it felt like a moment was gone.  She sat back on the couch, took a few potato chips from the bowl on the table, smoothed her skirt.

“You look groovy in that dress, baby,” one of the guys on the floor said to her.  She wondered for a second if he was making fun of her—Monica had been right, she stuck out like a sore thumb in this crowd—but the way he was looking at her seemed to suggest not.

“Thanks,” she said. 

“You’re Melissa’s sister, right?” he continued.  “I saw you in the park the other day.  What a scene!”

“Yeah, we’re sisters,” she said.  “I’m Dana.”

“Melvin Frohike,” he said, extending a hand to her.  “Great to meet you.  Hope we’ll see more of you.”

“Um,” she said.  “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

He didn’t seem in any hurry to let go of her hand, and she was glad when Monica leaned in to pass the joint to another one of the guys.  “I’m Monica,” she said to Melvin, extending her own hand, and he released Dana’s to take it.

The guy who’d taken the joint from Monica introduced himself as Ringo Langly.  “Like the Beatle?” Monica asked.

“Nah, the Beatle’s like me,” he said, taking another drag.

The guy sitting next to him was John Byers, and he was wearing a suit, so Dana thought briefly that he might also be new around here.  When he started talking, though, he was as weird as the rest of them.  Unlike her.  They were all talking easily now, even Monica—all about things Dana knew nothing about.  Marches they’d been to.  Hindu spirituality.  Whether Melvin should in fact be trusted to bring pot to parties when he brought such weak shit.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come.  She didn’t have anything to say.  The room was smoky and loud and it smelled bad.  John and Starchild had started necking and she didn’t want to watch.  She needed a break, at least.

“I’m going to get some air,” she said to Monica. 

“Okay!” Monica said cheerfully.  She and Ringo were deep in an earnest conversation.

Dana walked into Melissa’s bedroom, where she knew there was a fire escape.  The one other time she’d been here, Melissa had shown it to her, joking that her room had a porch.  She had to climb over Melissa’s bed to get to the window, but it opened easily, and then she was sitting outside, breathing fresher air, alone with her thoughts.  Melissa was happy here, at ease.  She was glad of that, even as she thought about how far from at ease she was herself.  Maybe the next time she saw Melissa it could be just the two of them.  She didn’t know why she’d thought coming here would be a good idea.

There was a clank from behind her, and when she looked back she saw a pair of legs protruding from the window.  She scooted aside so she wouldn’t get kicked and watched the rest of the person emerge.  It was him again.  The guy from the park. 

He looked surprised to see her.  “Oh, hi,” he said.  “I didn’t know anyone was here.  Just getting some air.”

“It’s okay,” Dana said.  “Me too.  We can both get air.”

“Great,” he said, smiling.  She smiled back, and they sat quietly for a minute or two.  “It’s Dana, right?”

“Yeah,” she said.  “What about you?”

“Fox Mulder,” he said.

“Do you have a real name?”  The words were out before she thought about them, and she cringed, thinking how rude she sounded.  She didn’t understand why people wanted to call themselves all these ridiculous things, but still, it was none of her business.  Fox wasn’t as dumb as Starchild, anyway.

He didn’t seem offended, though, giving her a rueful look.  “Yeah, that’s it.”

Oh, this was even worse.  “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have…Your name is fine.”

“Nah,” he said.  “I don’t like it either.  You can just call me Mulder.  Everyone does.”

“Okay,” she said.  “Mulder, then.”

“What did you think?” he asked her.  “That I’d voluntarily chosen to call myself that?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Dana said.  “A lot of people do.”

“True,” he conceded.  “You have a good name for that kind of thing, actually.”  There was a teasing tone in his voice.  “You could call yourself Daybreak.  Or Daylight.  Or…I don’t know, Day Camp.”

She giggled.  “I think I like just Dana.”

“That’s probably the best choice,” he said.  “Dana Scully.”  He said it slowly, each syllable clear.  She’d never heard her name quite like that.

“How do you know Melissa?” she asked him.

“My friend John has sort of a thing going on with her roommate,” he said.  “At least some of the time.  Anyway, we met through them.”  She nodded.  “You’re in college?”

“Yeah,” she said.  “At Barnard.  It’s my first year.”

“You like it?” he asked.  “What’re you studying?”

“I like it a lot,” she said.  “And right now I’m studying physics.  But I’m taking other science courses too…I really want to be a doctor.”  She looked down to where their legs were hanging off the fire escape.  It didn’t matter what he said, she told herself.  She was used to people’s reactions to this by now.  She barely even knew this guy.  But somehow she didn’t want him to say “Not a nurse?” or “You’ll change your mind about that” or any of the other condescending things she’d heard people say.  Somehow she really, really didn’t want him to.

But what he said was new.  “That’s a good name too.”

She looked up.  “What is?”

“Doctor Dana Scully,” he said, and she let out her breath.  She’d never heard her name like that either.  She’d only heard those words in her own voice, quietly, in front of the mirror.  Never in someone else’s.

“Thanks,” she said, and it wasn’t enough.  He smiled again, and she smoothed her hair, just to have something to do.  “What about you?  Are you in school or…?”  He looked a little older than her, but not that much older, she thought.

“I finished last year,” he said.  “Right now I’m…well, I’m figuring some things out.”  Things he didn’t want to talk about, she guessed, because he quickly added, “Do you like New York?”

She nodded.  “It’s really great,” she said.  “There’s so much to do here.  It’s definitely the most exciting place I’ve lived.”

“Where have you lived before?” he asked.

“A bunch of places,” she said.  “Maryland, California…We moved a lot.  My dad’s in the navy.”

“Oh, right,” he said.  “Melissa mentioned that once.”

Dana nodded.  “It’s part of why they don’t see eye-to-eye, I think,” she said.  “Well, there are a lot of reasons.  He and my mom, they’re not really happy about any of this—Melissa leaving school, I mean.  But my dad thinks you don’t support the troops if you say anything against the war, and Melissa thinks you’re morally corrupt if you say anything for it, so…”  She didn’t talk about this very much, but she figured there was no harm in it now.  Mulder already knew the broad outlines of the situation.  And he wasn’t on a side.

Mulder nodded.  “What about you?” he asked.

“It’s complicated for me,” Dana said.  “I don’t think I know enough yet.  I’ve talked about it more since I came to school—with the other girls, and Melissa talks about it a lot—and I understand where she’s coming from.  But I understand where my dad’s coming from too.  A lot of people in our family are in the navy, not just him.  My older brother’s over in Vietnam now, actually.”

“I didn’t know that,” Mulder said. 

“Yeah,” Dana said.  “He’s all right for now, as far as we know, but of course my parents worry.  And my dad wouldn’t want to think he’s fighting for something that’s wrong, right?  I think that’s why he gets so upset about Melissa.  They’ve fought about it a lot—I understand why, but I still wish they wouldn’t.”

“Are you guys close?” Mulder asked.

“Me and my dad or me and Melissa?”

He smiled.  “Whichever you want.”

“Well, it’s yes to both, actually,” she said.  “My dad’s really important to me.  And Melissa and I have always been close.  There are four of us—I have two brothers—but I think I’m the closest to Melissa, even though we can be pretty different.  What about you?” she added.  “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

There was something in his face.  “A younger sister.”

“And are you close?” she asked.

“We were,” he said, and now he was looking right at her.  “I haven’t seen her for ten years.  She disappeared when she was eight.”

“Oh,” Dana said.  She didn’t know what to say; she did her best.  “I’m so sorry.  Do you…do you not—”

“Yeah, we never found out,” he said.  She thought back to his words in the park.  “It really messed my parents up.  Messed all of us up, actually.  I was twelve.”

Would it be too much to touch him?  She put her hand on his, gently, so he could move it away if he wanted to.  He didn’t.  “I’m sorry,” she said again.  “It must be awful not to know.”

He nodded.  “That’s one of the things I’m trying to figure out,” he said.  “There’s got to be a way to know.  I think…I think she could still be alive.”

“I’m sure she could,” Dana said.  She had no way of knowing, of course, but there was a chance, wasn’t there?  “Have you found out anything?”

“Nothing concrete,” he said.  “But I have a theory…you’ll probably say it’s bullshit though, everyone does.”

“Well, you can still tell me,” Dana said, “if you want.”

“Okay,” he said.  “I was tripping and I saw her.  Samantha, I mean.  My sister.  I saw back to the night she disappeared and I think it was aliens.”

There was a lot to take in there, and that definitely was not how she’d expected that sentence to end.  “Aliens?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “They abducted her, I mean.  I saw all this light…and I saw myself there, but I couldn’t move…”  She saw why everyone said that his theory was bullshit.  It didn’t make any sense, there wasn’t any real evidence for it, and he hadn’t exactly been in a rational state of mind when he came up with it.  But when he said, “What do you think?”, she thought for a few moments before she answered.

“I don’t know that it’s something I’d believe,” she said.  “I mostly…I like to have a lot of evidence for things before I trust them.  Before I decide.”

He half-laughed.  “Is that what you learn in your science classes?”

“Yes,” she said.  “Science explains a lot, you know.  There’s a logical explanation for everything, if we look.”  He was watching her intently.  “And I think you should keep looking.  For your sister, I mean.  Keep trying to find out what happened.”

He nodded.  “That’s the plan.” 

“That’s good,” she said.  She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and they sat quietly beside each other for a few minutes.  The night air was cool on her skin.

“There could be a lot of things we don’t know about,” Mulder said, “out there.”

“Out where?” she asked.

“Out there,” he said.  He gestured expansively; she had to dodge his arm.  “In the universe.  Out in the stars.”

“Right now,” Dana said, “we can barely even see the stars.” 

“Aw, we can see a few, I bet,” Mulder said.  “Look up there.”

Dana looked.  “That’s the moon.”

“Yeah, I know what the moon looks like,” he said.  “Over there.”  He pointed.  “That’s Sirius, I think.”

There was a lot of light, but if she really squinted… “I think you’re right.”

They looked for a while, trying to pick out stars among the lights of the city, searching for familiar constellations.  “It’s too bright to see the Seven Sisters,” he said.  “Don’t you go to one of them?”

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Yeah.  Is there a fox constellation we can find?”  He just grinned at that, and they kept looking.  “I took astronomy last semester,” she said.  “We got to go up on the roof of one of the buildings and use telescopes.  You could see a lot more that way.”

“I’ll have to try that sometime,” he said.

They’d been pointing out their finds to each other, but after a while they fell silent, simply looking up.  That was all there was then—the cool spring night and Mulder’s hand touching hers and both of their heads turned towards the stars.


End file.
